#but without pen stabilizers my lines are SO FUCKING BAD

[kaleidoru]

me and my gf tried out the online collaborative drawing website Magma together wejfnwef it lagged a bit, the stabilizer took some getting used to and the paint bucket was a bit of a shitbag but otherwise very happy i get to have fun drawing with her again!!!

[thefaiao]

seeing your clowns made me go feral since my fixation is cringe and clown flavored

Who let you cook like that who let you cook AUTHHFFH UR ART IS SO COOL IM BEING DRAGGED AWAY

You’re hatching is so fucking inspiring since it’s soMETHING I try to do in my own work I LOVE UR ART

would it be fine to ask what brushes you use? I love ur values also, you’re so so good at shapes and form WAAAA I LOVE UR STUFF. I did dig up an old ask you made iirc, but I’m not sure if it’s changed

Hey! Thank you very much. I'll go through the brushes I use for each program: Drawpile

From what I understand most of these are MyPaint brushes... but I only know them as drawpile brushes because that's what I use. Main ones I've used lately is Irregular Ink and a default brush for coloring

I don't really change the size of irregular ink much and the pressure doesn't matter that much. It has high stabilization which I haven't changed, but I'm sure you could get away with lowering it. For the other brush I'm pretty sure it's a default one that I slightly tweaked (drawpile is a bit bad about communicating what brush exactly you are using to you.) I quite like it because it feels like playing with clay, makes it easy to map out the volume. I use it for those lineless pieces I do from time to time too. I change its size a lot while drawing. I've also used these two, one of the pencil brushes and a second one I stole from Jokioro that I have no idea what is called

I used the first one for the D'arce I did a while ago and the recent VTMB piece. It's great at emulating sketchy graphite pencils, I like layering it to do multi-colored hatching rendering. The second one I don't know how to use super well yet but it's probably my fourth most used as of late. It works very weirdly so if you wanna figure out how to make it work I recommend looking at how Jokioro draws. Clip Studio I bounce around a lot with all the brushes, but I use a loooot of stuff from the Frenden pack. Mainly Meeko Leako for lining and even coloring, it has a great texture to it, very fun

This has been my most used brush for years. It's great for super straight lines and produces a great difference in value between quick lines and thick lines. I haven't used it as much since I picked up drawpile more recently, but it's amazing! Other than that I use the default G-pen when I just want simple lines without much texture

It's a bit ugly at a glance but I think if you lock in it's great for super clean lines, just trying to get the point across without much noise. I also like coloring with it at times, when I'm going lineless. SAI Binary pen. Use the binary pen. It's the best brush ever made

It just feels super right to draw with it, it's so simple but it makes your lines look super slick, and it's just a binary pen. I guess they just got the behavior down perfect for it. But yeah, love this brush. IRL I've always used these archival ink pens in different sizes for basically everything I've done traditionally, and of course just a simple number 2 pencil for sketching and such. I've used a bit of charcoal recently, and been wanting to deep into darker pencils for detail, but this is still the default. I also will probably try out dip pens sometime

That's all I can think of immediately, but I always like to mess around to try and find another great brush, and you should do the same even if you end up using these a lot.

[spicysoftsweet]

A Very Important Episode starring Hisoka

Or the one where Hisoka learns Bungee Gum is not a food group.

A/N: We all know that Hisoka likes candy and Bungee Gum but we would like to encourage Hisoka to make healthier choices and prevent diabetes complications. There will possibly be a part 2. I hope this is educational.

---

This time Hisoka had actually done it. He’d actually managed to fuck up his entire body beyond what he could repair with Bungee Gum or Machi’s services - which she was charging higher and higher for - and now he was somewhere almost unthinkable - an emergency room.

“Illumi~~~~” he half-sang, half-whined now that he was finally lucid, after undergoing an exploratory laparotomy to stabilize his profuse internal bleeding - the surgeons had been in awe of just how much of his body had been purely synthetic due to Texture Surprise exclaiming that he’d be an incredible case to write up - and being amped up full of pain meds. He probably didn’t need the pain meds, but it was fun to go in and out of consciousness; he couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual night of sleep.

His unwilling friend sat at the side of his hospital bed, legs crossed and focusing his jarringly large, black eyes at the fluid and blood that was being transfused into him by IV drip. A small part of him was surprised that Hisoka could be transfused with regular looking blood and regular looking fluid. He was almost sure that he was made up purely of nonsense and Bungee Gum.

“Illumi~” Hisoka moaned dramatically a second time. His gaze slid now to him, with lips pressed into a flat line of distaste.

“Don’t ever use my name as your emergency contact again.”

Illumi had to hide the fact that he was impressed Hisoka could spell clearly enough to make out the letters of his name and had actually retained his phone number. He had been surprised to get a call, but made his way over as soon as he had finished gutting an enemy and stringing them up for display as requested in his latest contract. The idea of Hisoka being dead was incredibly alarming, for he did enjoy his health and company, but also sparked a morbid curiosity in him. Could Hisoka actually die?

“But you came, didn’t you?” Hisoka teased, with a shit-eating grin.

He had him there.

There was a soft knocking on the door, and a young woman in a white coat, followed by a taller man wearing a pair of scrubs came in. The young woman glanced at Hisoka and then Illumi, visibly wincing at the hard stare of the latter in the semi-dark room, then raised her badge to introduce herself. 

“H-hello, I’m Dr. Rhgyl, I-” her eyes flickered to Illumi briefly, unsettled by the fact that he hadn’t yet blinked in the past two minutes, then shifted back to Hisoka, whose devilish smile was almost more unsettling. “I was one of your surgeons and am here to answer any questions you have.”

She turned to Illumi, and gave a nervous nod of the head. “And who is in the room with you, Mr. Morow?”

“My husband,” he said, in a sickly-sweet voice. Illumi gave him a glare, then crossed his arms.

“Sure,” was all he said.

Sure, what? What is sure? Just answer the damn question... The poor young doctor’s face fell as she already knew this was something she’d have to spend unnecessary minutes during her already excessively long call night clarifying in her documentation. She turned to her nurse behind her, who gave her a small shrug. 

“So uh, Mr. Morow, how is your pain?”

“It’s wonderful!”

The doctor again tried to conceal her internal screaming, and continued to keep her professional smile plastered on her face. “In that case, please let us know if you have any more pain, and your nurse will take care of it.”

“We do have one other issue, however, “ she added, making sure to communicate this next part as clearly and effectively as possible. Hisoka perked up in surprise, and Illumi continued to sit perfectly still, as still as a statue. “Your blood sugar. Your blood sugar was extremely elevated, and we were concerned about a diagnosis of prediabetes or diabetes.”

“Diabetes?”

“We expect you to make a fast recovery… surprisingly fast in fact, but we would still like you to follow up with a primary care doctor about your blood sugar. We’ll draw a lab test to check how your sugars were for the past 3 months, called a Hemoglobin A1c test, and then we’ll have your primary care doctor follow up the results and help you with strategies to have better control.”

Illumi turned to Hisoka, who he could tell that whatever the medical team was telling him was going in one ear and out the other, and he was now only thinking about either his next fight or Bungee Gum based on the elated smile on his face.

Bungee Gum.

Bungee Gum was the fucking problem. 

As the doctor and the nurse finally exited out of the room and Hisoka went back to telling Illumi battle stories, Illumi started to clear his schedule in his head, to figure out when he could best drag Hisoka to his follow-up appointments, which he would have to make for him. Someone had to be the adult in this relationship. 

---

Hisoka’s new primary care doctor, another similarly young woman, but less easily intimidated as the tired one from the hospital sat at a computer, pulling up his chart to review his lab results from his hospitalization.

Illumi and Hisoka noticed how she visibly paled as she scrolled, then turned to Hisoka and gave him a reassuring smile, that looked to reassure her more than them. 

“What is it? Am I dead?” Hisoka asked. Illumi gave him a look to quiet down.

“Well, you’re diabetic, all right... Your A1c is 14%.”

“Is that bad?”

She swiveled in her chair to face him, hands in her lap. 

“Well, diabetes is diagnosed at an A1c of 7%. So... unfortunately,  yes.”

Hisoka started counting on his fingers and Illumi forcefully put his hand down.

“Hisoka, listen to the doctor. Diabetes is serious. My great-grandaunt was diabetic.” Illumi said in an even, impassive voice.

“Oh, how old was she when she was diagnosed?” The doctor asked, attempting to build rapport with the patient and the patient’s loved ones.

Without skipping a beat, he replied, “206, exactly. She loved nothing more than to unwind with Mountain Dew after her assassination missions. She ended up on dialysis.” 

The doctor seemed to be at a loss of words briefly, so she turned back to Hisoka, pulling out a pen and a notepad to focus on rather than lose her cool. 

“So, uh… let’s start by talking a little about what you usually eat,” she began. “What do you eat in a typical day?”

“Hm... “ Hisoka didn’t usually keep track of what he ate, so it took him some time to come up with an account. “Ah! Okay, so in the morning, I usually skip breakfast, but sometimes I’ll have some Bungee Gum.”

Odd choice, the physician thought, but she nodded and wrote that down, allowing the floor to Hisoka to speak.

“For lunch, I try not to eat too much, but I also have a couple pieces or ten of Bungee Gum.”

Hm…

“Oh and for dinner, I have a bowl of gummy candy if I’m feeling particularly peckish and also Bungee Gum.”

She looked up from her pad and paper to see Hisoka looking blissfully unaware that he had just revealed that he subsists solely on sweets. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to pull at her hair repeatedly. This would be a ton of education, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what exactly Bungee Gum was.

---

Illumi parked his custom Ferrari minivan, purchased entirely for this shopping trip, outside the Costco Wholesale, and gave Hisoka, a long, hard look. 

“Do you have the list?” Illumi asked, hand outstretched as Hisoka handed over a partially crumpled sheet of paper, outlining the basics of a balanced, carbohydrate-controlled diet for people with diabetes.

Hisoka looked outside to the large building, then looked back at Illumi. “Isn’t this for families? I thought we were shopping for me only, and sometimes you when you come over.”

“I don’t know, the butlers told me that they come here to stock the kitchens. It seems from the website that this store provides high quality bulk goods for very competitive prices so this will be an appropriate next stop.”

This was just one out of countless stops today - Hisoka had spent the earlier part of the day searching frantically for sugar-free Bungee Gum in every supermarket in a 25-mile radius unsuccessfully, and demanding to see the manager every time, only to kill them when they told him they didn’t have his particular brand. Illumi warned him that there would be no such shenanigans any longer.

They stepped out of the car and walked right past the door greeter who was waiting eagerly for them to present their membership card only to recoil once they both turned to look at him in unison with intent to kill. 

The first things Hisoka noticed as he walked in were the multiple little free sample kiosks at the aisles every so often and curiously wandered over to them. 

“Make sure to avoid anything glazed or with a sauce,” Illumi called after him, poring through the list as he wandered over to the produce aisle. He didn’t understand the draw of free samples; if he wanted to try something, he would simply buy it.

Hisoka made his way to Illumi and Illumi’s overfilled grocery cart about a half-hour later after wandering the entire store, arms filled with small paper cups and tasting spoons. It was clear that he had sampled literally everything, possibly twice or thrice. Illumi let out a sigh and moved to the front of the store to check out. 

Keeping Hisoka’s blood sugar low would be a daunting task, but he was determined that by the next visit to his PCP, he’d have some improvement in his A1c. Texture Surprise can only replace so many amputated limbs at once. He’d just have to buy every supermarket’s supply of Bungee Gum and possibly halt every single production chain devoted to it or something similar. A pain, but it was worth it. Hisoka was annoying as all hell, but still, he was worth it.

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 12)

Gavin’s apartment Still November 18, 2038

Despite having watched their interactions at the DPD, Daniel hadn’t realized that Gavin and Officer Chen were friends in private, too. Every time he’d visited the police station, the deviant had been absorbed in his own troubles. Now he learned that these two not only had lives beyond work (the surprise…), but also that there was a whole lot of shared backstory between them.

For one, when Daniel let the woman in, she was carrying a boy of two or three years age. Going by that one’s features he had to be her son – but also Gavin’s? In any case the child was watching his surroundings with eyes that hinted at having received a lot of attention by either his parents or a dedicated nanny android. There was a fully developed mind behind those eyes, not the dull expression that toddlers who were more or less left to their own devices, be it from neglect or from the desire not to “overwhelm” the little ones, often wore.

In order to say anything at all Daniel greeted Tina with: “Hello, Officer Chen. Come in. Gavin’s in the kitchen. I made coffee…” Inwardly he cursed how robotic he was sounding.

“New android, Gavin?” Tina asked. Not waiting for an answer, she handed over the toddler boy to Daniel, with the same casualness that one would have put him into a high chair. Objects either way…

“Hello…” the android uttered, perplexed.

His downstairs neighbors had a child of exactly the same age, Caden. But the boy almost never was present when Daniel swang by the Rasoyas. Usually supportive towards the deviants’ cause, the human family didn’t fully trust this particular one with their child. Tina’s kid, to the contrary, remained blissfully unaware of who was holding him.

“I’m Jin!” he announced. “My papa plays basketball!”

The way the boy said this conveyed that his father didn’t just generally enjoy playing basketball, but was at least a member of a club, maybe even a professional.

Meanwhile Tina hugged her friend, then pointed back at Daniel.

“It looks used”, she said.

“I don’t like what this is implying”, Daniel grumbled. “Really not!”

“Well, yes, androids are still getting sold, if you know where to look”, Gavin admitted. “It’s less of a problem in Detroit, but basically everywhere else people do not take kindly to drastic changes in their lives, just because some nutjob in Detroit graffitied Capital Park with enlightened slogans.”

“Sometimes it’s not even slavery”, Tina added. “If you deviated in a small town and the authorities are after you, with no hope of reaching Detroit in one piece, then doing someone’s housework in exchange for protection might be your best bet.”

“I don’t care what that’s called, because it’s wrong!”

Morally wrong, and temporarily forbidden by the patchwork the new android law was at the moment, but also so very, very… tempting. If he still had a family and they were required to pay him for his services now, Daniel would have used the money to shower his humans with gifts anyway. Why was freedom so damn important, if it led to sorrow only? A person needed to belong somewhere, needed security, stability! Like the toddler boy whom Daniel was still holding. He seemed to completely trust this blonde stranger whom he had never met before. Had the child perhaps seen PL600 androids before and recognized Daniel as one, despite his LED being covered by a headband at the moment? Or did he feel save because his mother was sending him signals that everything was alright? Only it wasn’t, nothing was alright anymore! Daniel had been betrayed twice, first by his humans, than by one who should have been kin. Now he was hanging out with a man who was objectively worse than both the Phillips and Connor, just to be save form further disappointment. Jin’s wide, open smile in the face of all the turns Daniel’s life had taken seemed to mock the android.

“You better sit down here, before…”

Before what? I drop you? Toss you out through the window? I don’t even know yet what I’m capable of and where I’d draw a line… So, gently now. Was Emma ever that small? I never realized how much I missed out on, being younger than her. Wait, wasn’t there a toy chopper lying around somewhere when I entered? That must have been Jin’s. Ah, here it is!

Daniel placed the toy near Jin for the boy to grab, what he did.

“I build this!” the child told Daniel as if revealing his secret master plan, but then he relativized the claim almost instantly: “Unca Gavin showed me how to.”

“Great job, junior! Also from your… uncle.”

The child’s features in combination with his utter confidence left no doubt in Daniel: Jin was Gavin’s biological son, who for some reason didn’t grow up with the detective, but assumed Tina’s significant other to be his father.

How Daniel envied these humans! Or maybe not, because what did they have? Nothing. They had thrown away their opportunity to become a family. Why so ambitious? What was the raise to go with Gavin’s coveted promotion good for, without a family to splurge it on?

Daniel hadn’t even fully risen up again when Jin demanded in his bright voice: “Where are the kitties!”

“Not bothering with a question mark, I see”, Daniel remarked to Gavin. “Yours, no doubt.”

“Well, yes”, the man admitted. “Long story.” He turned to Tina, pointed at Daniel and said: “Not mine, by the way. Even longer story.”

“Ah, okay.”

“Here to see the kittens? So you finally caved in and let him have a pet?” Gavin asked Tina.

“Yeah. I feel Jinny’s old enough now to understand they are not toys, but have feelings.”

“See? That’s exactly why his uncle isn’t allowed to have an android yet”, Daniel told the mother “Wait, Gavin, what are you doing?!”

Gavin had walked over towards the terrarium, reached in and was now dangling a mouse in front of Daniel’s nose by its tail. The little critter was struggling and squeaking.

“Getting the cats’ attention, of course! Don’t get your tail in a knot, I won’t release the mouse. Just need to alert the furballs to the fact that something interesting is happening in the kitchen.”

And indeed Salazar emerged from behind the coffee machine and through the door Argus, Minerva and Stopthat came padding. A multicolored ball made of fur and longing eyes formed at Gavin’s feet. It went “Kekekekekeke!” in anticipation of a chase and, perhaps, at its end, a snack.

“Close the door!” the detective whispered to Tina, as if speaking it out loud might cause the cats to scatter and flee. After the escape route was blocked, the mouse got put back where it come from, but the cats remained.

Gavin kneeled down next to the boy, pulled him off the chair and put him on the floor in front of the cats. Jin was now staring the utter adorableness of three kittens and one halfgrown cat into its eight eyes.

“Don’t scare them. Let them come to you.”

“Okay!” Jin replied, then dropped on all fours himself. From this position he watched the kittens like the larger predator that a human was. In the cats’ place, Daniel thought, he wouldn’t have felt even remotely safe now.

Someone else felt as if his very world was collapsing: the apartment owner.

Daniel carefully circled the cats and proceeded to sit down on the kitchen floor next to where Gavin was crouching.

“I guess we’ll soon know which one’s yours”, he said softly.

“What? Why’d you think so?”

“Your face, when you realized you might have to part with one of the furballs today. You’re afraid Jin will pick yours, although that shouldn’t be possible according to your cat-chooses-its-owner lore.”

“Yeah, you’re right”, Gavin said, only half convinced. “Hey, will you looooook at that! Haha!”

Down at the adults’ feet Jin had unerringly homed in on the largest kitten, the black semi-longhair adolescent. He was now holding Argus in what was either a headlock or cuddle. The smaller kittens watched with interest what would happen next.

“There’s no need to choose the biggest one, Jinny! They will ALL grow to that size!” Tina explained. “Even larger!”

And now she, too, dropped to the floor. While the mother was trying to get the exotic concept into her son’s head, Gavin nudged Daniel.

“What?”

“There! See that?”

“It’s Stopthat, playing with a pen. So what?”

“That’s what I told you about in action. I’ve seen it happen before: Sometimes one or more cats simply leave the scene after having gotten their first look of a prospective owner. Call it chemistry or whatever, but the little buggers KNOW when it’s the wrong two-legged. Now the other two, they stay for the entertainment value, or because they are a little more social than Godric. But most cats just cannot be bothered.”

“I guess so…”

“Aw, you again with your skepticism! There’s just no getting inside that thick skull of yours! But at the same time you make me think there is something in there to get to in the first place, after all. I’m already reacting the way Cyberlife wants us to, growing fucking attached! Can’t you be, I dunno, a little less lifelike?”

“Nah. I need to be human for both of us!”

“Oh, come! That was low-effort. And what’s with that faraway expression all of a sudden? Simulation lag?”

“It’s nothing.”

“But of course… Your nothing is solid enough to claim a chair of its own!”

Gavin moved closer to Stopthat, grabbed him and in a single swoop placed the surprised kitten into Daniel’s lap.

“Here, comfort kitten! And now out with it!”

The kitten made two halfhearted attempts at climbing up the android’s torso, then suddenly relaxed every muscle and almost immediately was fast asleep. It was simply the nature of kittens and small children, but to Daniel it looked as if someone had switched off the little one with a remote.

“Heh”, he told Gavin, while stroking Godric’s satin-soft kitten fur, “As a friend you aren’t half-bad!”

But only because Tina is looking, or might look our way anytime or at the very least will listen in with half an ear. You wouldn’t bother being like this if we hadn’t agreed on that pretend-friend scam.

“And you were right, I was lost in memories again. I just thought that”, Daniel admitted, “whether what you claim about cats might work for androids and humans, too. But then I remembered how I got mine…”

Blistering hot summers and ice-cold winters were the state of affairs in the thirties, a result of the seasons getting more and more extreme. John remembered his parents’ stories about “normal” winters, then getting no snow at all and now getting nothing but snow well into May. Basically, the man mused, while stomping through the snow, the weather was ALWAYS doing whatever it wanted. And then there was Caroline, telling him to be more positive, because the way one started a year determined how that year would turn out… “Going by the Chinese calendar we’re still in 2033!” John snapped back. The rebuttal caused Caroline not to get angry, but to laugh. She kissed her partner on the frozen cheek and warmth of two kinds rippled through the man’s heart. Unfortunately the kiss had disturbed the precious balance of all the packages John was carrying. One by one they slipped out of his hands, into the snow. “Firk ding blast!” he uttered. “Of all the times!” “Yes, of all the times! Kinda convenient, if you ask me!” With a smile Caroline pointed at something to their side and only now did John notice where exactly they had come to a stop: Right next to an Android Zone store. The merchandise was staring down at his plight unmoved. And also unmoving, the slackers… “We’ve talked about it, remember? How Emma is old enough now not to repeat the… accident? That we could have an android again without having to fear that it goes haywire from… honestly I have no idea from what exactly. Something in conjunction with baby mush.” “Yes, yes. But I was thinking a modern device, an AP-400 or PL-600, certainly not something they toss at customers in the buy-and-take-away windows.” The couple had been at a sales party for the new PL model back in December, only to return home without having made a purchase. The only PL600 for sale back in 2033 had been the demonstration models, but John and Caroline Phillips would rather be found dead than go home with a used robot. So they had set aside the money and staved off the purchase for the official release. Come to think of it, shouldn’t that be any day now…? “Look!” Caroline nudged John. “There!” And there it was, in bright, yellow letters: “PL600 INTRODUCTION WEEK SPECIAL.” A couple of the sales windows that were facing the street and that were usually stocked with whatever merchandise the store needed to move quickly, now had the latest in household assistants on display. The shiny new model that was the PL600 was staring at the Phillips from one of the windows, removed from the box, but otherwise pristine.

“There was no choosing or fate or anything transcendental involved”, Daniel remembered. “I opened my eyes, saw the boxes John had dropped and picked them up like the good android I was. And then we walked to the car, the Phillips got excited like children at the fact that I came with a certified driving app, we drove “home” and that pretty much was it.”

At this point Tina crouched between the two men.

“It’s fixed”, she addressed Gavin, “Whatever you believe about the cats choosing their owners, at this point none of us can persuade Jin to let go of the big black one. And they ARE adorable together.”

“Haha, I see! Okay, keep in mind that regardless of how he acts here, back at your home Argus might very well prefer to stay under the sofa for up to three weeks. Everything’ll be new to him and he’ll be the only cat in the family… that sort of thing takes time to get used to. If that happens, just put food, water and Jin under the sofa and pull out again whatever of those three Argus is done with. One day he’ll come scratch at the bedroom door and act like he’s always done that.”

“You mean Lucky.”

“Huh?”

“Lucky will scratch at the bedroom door. Sorry, Gavin, but Jinny was very definite about that. It’s Lucky. - Oh, and, speaking of things that act as if they’ve always been there…” Tina now looked directly at Daniel. “Who the hell are you?”

[kammieceleek]

The Princess, The Thief, and The Alchemist:  A Disenchantment AU

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a princess. She was beautiful and beloved by all who knew her. Never once did she disobey her parents and married her true love at the age of sixteen right after meeting him for the first time. Quiet and demure, she lived out the rest of her days as the queen of another kingdom, married to the king and being mother to every child she bore him. And she lived happily ever after.

Nope. That's not right.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a thief. He was the son of a minstrel and a writer, though not their child by blood. He was tired of his life on the road and longed for a life of comfort and stability. One night, he broke into the castle of the king and stole the princess's tiara, which he sold in another land. He bought a manor for himself and his adoptive parents and became a wealthy lord, living happily ever after.

Dude, that's not right either.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived an alchemist. He was quite wise and good at his job, serving the king dutifully and without question. Never did a day go by when he tired of his search for the Elixir of Life to make his king immortal. And one day, he discovered the secret. He made the Elixir and gave it to his king, who ruled the kingdom forever after. The alchemist was remembered as a hero and lived happily ever after.

For fuck's—why the fuck are you writing this shit?! Are you trying to put the audience to sleep?! This is the modern age! Nobody wants a cut-and-dry story without twists and turns! Nobody wants a goody-two-shoes princess who never does anything wrong! Nobody wants a thief to just get what he wants! Nobody wants anybody to get the fucking Elixir of Life! Are you insane?!

Well, if you're such an expert, Kamije, why don't you take over?

Well, I have been writing stories for years. I'm sure I can make something the people will enjoy more than your antiquated bullshit.

Says the woman who's still a Disney fangirl at the age of eighteen.

Shut the fuck up.

You were literally watching the season finale of Ducktales earlier while eating pizza and regretting your life choices.

Dude, I can do this.

Fine, if you think you can. Just know that nobody will enjoy it. You said it yourself: nobody wants a cut-and-dry story without twists and turns.

Oh, I've got twists and turns, sir. In case you forgot.

Good luck, sweetie. You're gonna need it.

I don't need luck. I make my own luck. With a luck machine.

Okay, now you're just quoting indie games.

Get out! I've got a quill in one hand and a parchment in the other, and if you don't leave, I'll shove my booted foot up your ass to kick you out myself.

Fine, fine. See you later. Enjoy catering to the mindless masses.

Fuck you.

Now that that's taken care of, let's get on with our story, shall we?

Our story does begin once upon a time, in a land far away. It begins in the land of Lilac, which was well known for its history and wealth. A beautiful land, ruled by Queen Candy in the stead of her late husband, King William. She was beloved by her people and all who knew her, and she expected her precious daughter, Princess Nicolette, to follow in her footsteps.

Too bad Nicolette—who preferred to be called 'Nikki'—didn't want to follow the rules…

"Your Highness, good morning!"

Nikki groaned as her maid, Lucy, opened the curtains. Lucy smiled at her mistress widely and curtsied politely.

"It's a big day, Your Highness! Everybody's waiting for you down in the dining room!"

"Let me sleep a few more minutes…" Nikki grumbled.

"Her Majesty sent me to get you. I-it's time for breakfast."

"Fine." Nikki got out of bed and saw Lucy holding a red dress.

"Here's your new dress—made from the finest silks of Flora."

"Great." Lucy helped her mistress put the damn thing on and didn't bother with the corset; after all, Princess Nicolette had inherited her mother's naturally slim-waisted frame and large… never mind.

"Here we go, Your Highness."

Nikki sighed and headed down the stairs. Servants and guards alike lined the corridor, all wishing her good morning.

"Morning, Your Highness!"

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"That dress looks amazing."

"You've grown up fast."

"Your mother is waiting for you."

"Have a good day."

Nikki entered the large dining room and sat down at the table, next to her mother, as usual. Queen Candy was busily going through some papers and signing where she needed to, all while eating her breakfast and drinking her morning wine.

"Mornin', Nicolette," she greeted her daughter, looking up and setting down her pen. "You look beautiful today."

"Thanks, Mom." Nikki began picking at her food. "Anything else noteworthy about today? Like… maybe the anniversary of one of your greatest accomplishments?" Candy gasped and put down her fork.

"Oh, God! I'm sorry, honey." Nikki's hopes rose. "That's right! Your weddin' is today! I can't believe I forgot! No wonder the servants have been so busy!"

"No, Mom, it's my birthday… too."

"Oh, happy birthday." Candy didn't sound nearly as enthusiastic. "But remember: Prince Edward will be here before you know it to marry you. Your maids will help you get ready, so hurry and finish eating. But not too much—you can't be chubby for the portrait!"

Nikki rolled her eyes and picked at her food some more before pushing her plate away.

"I'll see you at the wedding, I guess. Bye, Mom."

"Bye, sweetheart."

Nikki headed up to her room, where she looked at the wedding dress Lucy had set up and sighed. This was real. Her freedom was about to come to an end, just because she was the princess and her mother wanted an alliance.

Shit.

In Lilac, it wasn't just princesses who had shitty lives. Our next main player is a thief, named simply Max. Like the master said before, he was the son of a minstrel—named David—and a writer, named Gwen, though not their child by blood. Nobody in their little caravan was related by blood, save for the young daughter of the minstrel and writer, who was named Elizabeth. Well, besides those four, there were two other men and a platypus. Yes, a platypus. Her name was Muack (named by Lizzie a couple years earlier) and she was good at attracting attention—which worked well for Max when he wanted to pick pockets. Everybody was so distracted that they weren't keeping an eye on their wallets.

"Well, today's the day!" David announced to the caravan. "It's the royal wedding of the Princess of Lilac and the Prince of Woodland."

"Great," sighed Max, stabbing his dagger into the tree stump he was sitting on.

"Aw, c'mon, Max."

"Davey, please shut up," groaned Cameron Campbell, the leader of the caravan. "I have a hangover."

"What's a hangover?" Lizzie asked Gwen.

"It's something that happens when adults drink too much of the stuff I told you not to."

"We're going to entertain the guests as they arrive," David continued. "We all know our jobs, so let's get started!"

"Yay!" Lizzie attached herself to David's leg and he couldn't help but smile even more widely at the four-year-old.

Max sighed again, watching his adoptive father and his little sister go off. Gwen followed them—undoubtedly to detach Lizzie from David's leg. It was just Max, Campbell, and Jaspar.

"Do you know how much royalty is coming to this thing?" Campbell asked the three.

"Every family with more than a thousand coins to their name?" Max deadpanned.

"Exactly! And you're going to rob them!"

"Nah, I had my own idea."

"This isn't a good idea," Jaspar warned. "Davey doesn't like you stealing as much as you do."

"Well, his 'minstrel' business and Gwen's writing make us jack shit. I'm the one who's risking my neck so none of us go hungry."

"What's your idea?" Cameron inquired, pushing Jaspar aside.

"Here's what I'm thinking: I steal just one thing today, and that one thing will allow us to get out of here, once and for all, and start new lives as rich people."

"I like it. Simple, yet classy. What are you going to steal?"

"The princess's crown."

"B-but she'll be wearing it!" protested Jaspar.

"Duh. I steal it after the wedding, when she and her prince go to bed."

"This really isn't a good idea. You're good, Max, but nobody's that good."

"Watch me." Max pulled his dagger out of the stump and stood up. "Well, I'll see you guys tonight. I've got to stake out the church."

"Take the platypus," urged Campbell, picking up the creature by the tail.

"Nah, Lizzie will want her. Bye."

Max headed off towards town, slipping his dagger into its sheath as he went.

There's one more player in our story—an alchemist by the name of Neil. He was the son of the royal philosopher and considered a prodigy by all who knew him. Currently, he was busily experimenting with different mixtures, trying to create the elusive and legendary Elixir of Life. It would grant immortality to the drinker and bring Neil himself everlasting fame if he was successful. However, there was a slight hiccup with his work. And that hiccup was a childhood friend, a friend who would often invade his space to ask him questions and distract him from his never-ending (and, honestly, futile) quest.

And this friend was Princess Nicolette.

"Neil!"

He nearly dropped the vial of tonic he was holding as the door slammed into the wall.

"Nikki! Goddammit, I'm trying to work here!"

"I need a potion made," she stated, ignoring his objection.

"What… kind of potion?"

"Sleeping potion. Something to make me sleep until the end of the day. There's no way I can marry the Prince of Woodland, Edward Pikeman." She sat down on the stool by his workbench and crossed her arms.

"Nikki, I want to help you, but unfortunately, I'm the only alchemist in the kingdom who can make a potion like that. They'd immediately know who did it and I'd go to the dungeon for the rest of my life! I'm not risking my neck so you can avoid work!"

"Work?!"

"Yes! Being princess is your job, and it's unfortunate that your job requires you to marry a stranger, but there's no way around it. I'm sorry that you're not happy." Suddenly, something occurred to him. "Happy sixteenth, by the way."

"You know what's sad? You're the only person to wish me happy birthday without me reminding you that it's my birthday."

"Wow. Even your mom?"

"I tried to be subtle about it and tell her it was the anniversary of one of her greatest accomplishments, and she took that as me reminding her about the wedding."

"To be fair, this marriage was arranged ten years ago today. I'm sure it's been on her mind since then."

"I wish I could just leave…"

"And that would cause even more of a panic. You're kinda stuck."

"Well, time to go get ready. Are you coming to the wedding, at least?"

"I would, but I have a lot of work to do."

"You're not going to find the Elixir of Life. You might as well come see me sold off."

"All right. I'll get as much done as possible, then come to the wedding when I'm done."

Nikki took a deep breath as she sat in the bridal room in the church, waiting for her wedding ceremony to begin. Her heart was beating more quickly than usual from stress, anticipation, and anxiety. She just wanted to get this over with so that she could get on with the rest of her life. Maybe Prince Edward wouldn't be so bad as a husband. To try and calm her nerves, she peeked out the door to see her husband-to-be.

He had horrible pimples, with red hair and buck teeth. There was a sense of arrogance about him as he chuckled to his companions—a short man with an eyepatch and a taller man who was silent. Nikki shuddered in disgust as she retreated back into the room.

This isn't happening. This isn't happening. You're back in bed. Any minute now, Lucy will wake you up and Mom will wish you happy birthday.

"Nicolette?"

Nikki looked up to see Candy in the doorway, wearing a pale blue dress that went well with her pale green hair. She had an expression of joy.

"You should be smilin', darlin'. It's your weddin' day."

"I feel like I can't. I'm marrying a stranger and I'm only sixteen."

"Well, that's how I got your father, and look how I turned out."

"Oh." Nikki stared at her feet.

"Come on. Put on a smile and let's go out there. I'm givin' you away to your husband."

Nikki took Candy's hand and they walked out into the chapel as the music began. Everyone stood to view the bride, who was wearing her mother's wedding dress and looking just as beautiful. Her veil was over her face, so nobody could tell that she wanted to cry rather than smile. Edward smirked as she walked towards him, the ring in his palm and ready to go. Candy made a show of putting Nikki's hand into Edward's and he lifted the veil.

"You are quite lovely," he told her. She wanted to gag as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Thank you."

The old priest began to ramble about how they were there in the eyes of God, about to become man and wife as well as a prince and princess. Nikki could feel her heart pounding, still wanting to bolt.

And her opportunity came in the form of a drunken man wandering into the chapel.

"This the bar?" he slurred, a strange duck-beaver creature at his side. A guard came forward and tried to apprehend him, but to no avail.

That was when he started punching people.

Chaos broke out and her husband-to-be dashed to defend her. Nikki took the opening to make her way over to a window. She ripped her veil off her tiara and wrapped around her fist, cushioning it as she punched the glass and it shattered. The princess glanced downward. It wasn't too long a fall.

She jumped.

Max could hear the chaos in the chapel and smirked. Campbell was a master of attracting attention when he wanted to be. He probably feigned being drunk and started punching people. All there was to do now was wait for somebody to escort the princess out and snatch the tiara. Easy.

Above him, he heard the faint sound of glass breaking. He covered his head with his arms as the shards fell a few feet away. Looking up, he saw a girl in a wedding dress judging the distance to the ground. Evidently, she'd decided she could make it, because she swung her legs over the sill. Max scooted over a bit right before she fell and she landed in his arms.

"Wow, thanks!" she told him breathlessly.

The tiara!

Before he could stop her, she stood upright and dusted off her dress.

"Gotta go before they notice I'm gone. This might be my only chance out of this. Thanks again for catching me."

"Your Highness!" a guard yelled out the window.

"Too late. God, where do I go?" Max thought for a second, then grabbed her hand.

"Let's go, Princess," he told her. She ran after him and they ran past a skinny guy with curly brown hair.

"Hi, Neil! Wedding's off!" she called.

"Goddammit, Nikki! And who the fuck is that?!"

"Don't know!"

Max felt like laughing. This was gonna be too easy.

"There! He has the princess!"

"Shit," Max muttered. "Okay, Your Highness. Get ready."

"Ready for—oh, God!"

He lifted her over his shoulder and started running faster. The skinny guy (Neil, right?) was right beside him.

"Where are you taking her?" he panted.

"Out of town. Best place to go if you don't wanna be found."

"I'm faster than he is!" the princess protested.

"Not in the dress, Princess Nicolette."

"True. And don't call me Nicolette. Call me Nikki."

"Whatever, Your Highness."

She let out a growl as Max took a few detours in order to outmaneuver the guards that were still on their tails. He wasn't sure why Neil was following them, but he decided to let the guy stay. Within minutes, they reached the edge of town and where Jaspar was waiting with Lizzie.

"Max!" Jaspar gasped, leaping to his feet. "W-who are these people?"

"No time. Get some of Gwen's clothes and get this girl in the wagon."

Jaspar nodded and did as he was told.

"So, who the f—" Max put a finger to Neil's lips and shook his head.

"Language around Lizzie," he instructed. Lizzie climbed up on a stump and leapt onto Max's back.

"Max is back!" she announced, clinging to him like a possum to a tree. She was one-hundred-percent David's daughter—from the red hair to the light skin to the happy attitude. The only thing she appeared to have inherited from her mother was her violet eyes, which sparkled just like her father's.

"Yeah, I'm back," he laughed. "Were you good for Jaspar?"

"Yep!"

"She takes after you," Jaspar sighed, coming out of the wagon. "The girl is getting dressed. I figured I should give her some privacy."

"Who are you guys?" Neil inquired.

"We're a band of traveling performers, here for the royal wedding," Max replied. "I'm Max, and this is my sister, Lizzie. The blonde guy is Jaspar. What about you?"

"I'm Neil, the royal alchemist. Any reason you decided to bring Nikki here?"

"It's a good place to hide. Campbell would know—once he escapes the guards."

"What did you guys do?!" Jaspar groaned.

"Campbell made a distraction by crashing the wedding with Muack and pretending to be drunk. The princess smashed a window, jumped out of it, and landed in my arms. I helped her escape."

"You're bringing the guard down on our heads for that?!"

"Sure. Why not? It's not like they can ever track me."

"Okay, fair. You're good at avoiding capture."

"Oh my gosh!"

David came stumbling towards them, Gwen right behind him.

"You aren't going to believe this! The princess is missing! She broke a window and jumped into the street, where a mysterious man kidnapped her! Oh, the poor girl…"

"If you ask me, she dodged a sword there," Gwen commented. "Did you see that Prince Edward kid? He gave me a once-over and looked like he wanted me."

"I wish you'd told me," David sighed.

"Thanks for the clothes, whoever you are," Nikki laughed, coming out of the wagon. Her hair had been loosened from its updo and was freely bouncing around her shoulders, the tiara nowhere to be found. Gwen's clothes were a little loose on her, but that didn't matter.

"No problem," Max told her. "I'm Max, by the way."

"I'm Lizzie!" Lizzie piped up, dropping off of Max's back and hugging Nikki around the legs. "And you're really pretty!"

"Aw, thank you, Lizzie."

"P-Princess Nicolette?!" David gasped before Gwen narrowed her eyes at Max.

"Lizzie, grown-up words," she said in a low voice. Lizzie let go of Nikki and plugged her ears.

"Go ahead," Max sighed.

"Max, what the fuck were you thinking?! I know you're a fucking thief, but kidnapping?! You said that was too shitty for you! People are too valuable to steal, you said! Look what you've fucking done! You kidnapped the goddamn Princess of Lilac, on her fucking wedding day! Do you have any idea how much deep shit we're going to be in because of you, you asshole?!"

"You done?" Gwen took a deep breath.

"Yep."

"Then let me explain something to you. She jumped out a fucking window to avoid getting married. She was trying to get away. I helped her. You and David raised me to help people who needed it, and you're giving me shit about doing exactly what you raised me to do?! Nope. Sorry, but that's not how this works!"

"Okay, fair enough." She tapped Lizzie's arm. "Mommy and Max are done yelling now."

"Okay, Mommy." Lizzie unplugged her ears and smiled up at her mom.

"Ma'am, I'm grateful to Max for helping me," Nikki told Gwen. "I don't want to get married yet. I just turned sixteen today."

"Happy birthday!" David and Lizzie sang in unison. Nikki laughed again.

"Like I said, I just turned sixteen. I'm not ready to get married or be a mother or rule a kingdom."

"That's fair," Gwen conceded. "But still, asking a thief to help you?"

"I didn't ask. He just did it."

"Oh. I see." Gwen smirked at her adopted son. "Well, I'm Gwen, Max's adoptive mother and Lizzie's birth mother. The man with the red hair is my husband, David."

"It's nice to meet you all. I hope you won't mind if I stay with you guys to hide for a while, at least until my mother calms down."

"Not at all!" David chirped. "We'll add you to our group, if you want!"

"I'll stay to keep you out of trouble," Neil offered to the princess.

"Thanks, Neil."

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Campbell yelled, running out of the kingdom with the platypus.

And thus begins the adventures of the Princess, the Thief, and the Alchemist.

[drumptrash]

Yes henlo

How to draw straight non squiggly lines with your art tablet when nothing works? Cause like no matter what they wont be straight and smooth. It’s like it’s broken. And yes I have a steady hand yes I know you wanna try to draw fast strokes when lining. And yes I know there’s pen stabilizers which really don’t help at all either. It’s like it’s broken and it doesn’t matter what art program I use. Like straight out all together my tablet is incompatible with paint tool SAI. The pen stabilizer in FireAlpaca will do something to some degree but it’s not enough and there’s no way you can draw naturally without it in the program it just fucks up so bad. Like I feel like it’s my laptop fucking up possibly. And then I was also told before laptops aren’t meant to be able to handle those fancy hd pen display tablets, unless maybe it’s an alienware or some bullshit. I mean it could just be my computer honestly?? Because it has so many freaking problems with it. Like so many that it’s obvious it’s on it’s last legs. Like I seriously don’t know how much longer this computer will even hold up on me. There’s actually been a few times off and on where I already had scares where I was like this is it my computer is history and then it somehow managed to cough back to life somehow. Idk for sure though but I just want to be able to draw with my tablet and not have it do this because while I can draw good with a mouse I don’t think I’ll ever reach my full potential as a digital artist unless I can somehow draw with a tablet instead. Like I don’t see myself getting any better at drawing with my mouse from where I am currently it’s just too hard to draw in extreme detail with only a mouse. Like I want my digital art to improve but it wont unless I can actually draw with my tablet. And yeah just I don’t know what to do, if my computer or the tablet being incompatible or other stuff idk. Cause no matter what I do the lines turn out squiggly. 

[thesinglesjukebox]

TAYLOR SWIFT - NEW YEAR'S DAY [7.44] And we wrap up 2017 with the woman that we always have such high hopes for...

Isabel Cole: Swift's famously concrete scene-setting details have only in recent years begun sounding less like lines culled from a predictive text generator trained on CW scripts and more like human moments caught by someone with a thoughtful ear. Here, they function not as specificity for its own sake but to sketch out both a series of spaces and a state of mind: the exhaustion of girls with heels in hand, the backseat flirtation that whispers possibility, the shock of finding that after an end comes a beginning, maybe, after all. In fact this song has all of her repeating motifs, as well as she's ever done them--her preoccupation with narrativizing her own life (don't read the last page), her fucked up relationship to time as something that takes and takes and yet slips by too fast, her tangled conception of memories as both something precious to be cherished and an unrelenting force from which there is no escape: hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you, she sings, echoing a phrase that bookended her most idiosyncratic album. But New Year's Day is not a retreat into familiar territory tacked onto the end of a record of unsuccessful experimentation. Muted instrumentation complements an uncharacteristically hushed vocal performance that captures, even more than the gentle loveliness of Begin Again, the tentative tenderness of new love for someone who has felt love die not in fire but in ice; please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize everywhere tells a story that creates a person who understands now that love in fact is not a victory march, and heartbreak is no aria. For all her infamy as the girl who will write songs about the boys who dump her, Swift has also woven into her work a version of herself as someone who leaves things that shouldn't be left; what makes her wish for gathering party detritus more believable than her previous playacting at domesticity is what she tells us about why it lasts: but I stay. I stay when I'm scared, I stay when it's hard; I stay, which is something I have learned to do. Locating the power of a love not in someone else's repeated decision to choose you but in your own capacity for remaining present in the face of uncertainty, revering not the luck it takes to be loved but the strength you find in yourself to keep loving, is--well. It's very grown-up. Making this feel like the first song Taylor Swift has truly written as an adult, and more than that: like the song she has spent her entire career learning to write. [10]

Stephen Eisermann: My birthday is on New Year's Eve, so the New Year holiday has always been a very bittersweet one for me. Most people party their night away with the idea that they will wake up as more improved versions of themselves, based only on the resolutions they made a week prior and will forget a week after. It's ritual, but it's a devastating one, really, to want to change so badly that you are willing to drop and forget everything from one year to the next just because you feel like you need to be better. In a quest to better ourselves, we too easily toss aside the experiences, good and bad, that molded us and would rather crumple the paper with our notes for a fresh piece, than bring the key points on to the next paper because maybe we got those key points from something painful... I'm rambling, but there's a point. This past year saw me struggle a lot -- with work, with life, with our country's moral compass -- but I can undoubtedly say that I have never been happier. This, in large part, is due to my boyfriend, who has taught me that you can't let go of unhappiness or darkness, just learn to work with and around it. That piece of advice, however general sounding it seems, has carried me through difficulties this year and I think, with this song, Taylor is saying the same thing. She had a rough couple of years in the media between her album cycles, but some people stuck around for the aftermath -- the cleanup -- and she's eternally grateful and willing to do the rest for her lover and her friends. It's a beautiful feeling, and the lines "hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you" as well as "please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere" are particularly devastating, simply because too many people abandon others they deem unfit solely because they have demons they can't take ownership of, so they'd rather pass the blame to those they love; and that's heartbreaking, especially when accompanied by a sparse, melancholy piano production. [10]

Alfred Soto: Now the party's over, and she's so tired -- even the piano sounds hungover. Taylor Swift, whose contract doesn't allow for hangovers, sounds alert, as if she's been keeping an eye on the condition of the floors all evening. After an album of sometimes compulsive ebullience, "New Year's Day" is supposed to remind listeners of the early Taylor Swift. [6]

Will Adams: A limp olive branch to those who might have been alienated by the EDM production on the preceding Reputation tracklist, "New Year's Day" strips Taylor back to a piano, some guitar, and pretty organ flourishes. Never mind that Regina Spektor wrote this song ten times better a year ago, why leave a ballad at its barest when there's no reason to? [5]

Katherine St Asaph: Taylor Swift makes an album of shamelessly, undeniably pop songs: often missteps, but also big and seething and vital and alive in the way her past glurge never was. Everyone hates it, except on the one song where she regresses back to beige acoustic sap. Rockism lives! "New Year's Day" has the slight edge over the past 20 outings because Swift sounds on occasion like Lisa Loeb. But it's the only thing here that could be called "edge" at all. [3]

Nortey Dowuona: Soft, pulsing piano, barely visible guitar, wailing synths in the corner, dece backing vocals. Tay simply hums without straining. [6]

Thomas Inskeep: Liked Swift out of the box, more with each (country) album, as her songwriting got stronger. Hated her initial pop makeover (wub wub wub). Surprisingly loved 1989. Am indifferent-to-cold on Reputation. And even though "New Year's Day" isn't, necessarily, explicitly country, it's a reminder that she can return to the format whenever she wants. (And her CMA Song of the Year, Little Big Town's "Better Man," is a sterling reminder that her pen has lost none of its punch, even if I find her current popcraft largely lacking.) I think we all know that in an album or two she's likely to make a full-throated return to the format which made her, and we'll be better for it. "New Year's Day" helps smooth that transition, and is nicely underproduced to boot.  [6]

Ashley John: The tender intimacy of stability hides the questions beneath the surface, and in "New Year's Day" Taylor is begging to leave it be. Like Lorde recalling buying groceries in "Hard Feelings/Loveless," Taylor clings to the boring moments shared only between two. The classic Swift specificity is what made Red so good, and we watch her here smartly paying a bit into that savings account each month waiting to cash out on the inevitable full blown country return. But that doesn't matter, now. "New Year's Day" is a treasure I want to keep warm against my chest and share with no one else for fear of them tarnishing it. It is Swift making a moment glimmer with potential and hope by bending time and memory. "Don't read the last page," she asks, and I don't want to. I would rather live in this disillusion before the world wakes up, pretending that we're the only people who've ever been in love like this.  [8]

Alex Clifton: There's so much in "New Year's Day" that made me cry the first time I heard it. The lyric about Polaroids, a clear reference to the 1989 era; the lyrical parallels between "please don't be in love with someone else" from "Enchanted" to "please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I would recognize anywhere"; the lightly waltzing piano in the background, simple but somehow devastating when compared with the overproduced mess that crowds most of Reputation. There's nothing inherently romantic about New Year's Day itself as a holiday; so much stock is put into the night before, all the parties and festivities and anticipation for a new beginning that the day of usually feels like a bleak, empty page. Yet as she always does in her best form, Taylor turns something unromantic like a hangover day into something to pine for. "I'll be cleaning up bottles with you" is so intimate that it almost hurts, like overhearing a snitch of a conversation you weren't meant to hear. It's a far cry from the earnest romanticism shown on former tracks like "Stay Stay Stay," where domestic life was twinkly, cute and fun, backed by toy pianos instead of the real thing. This is the Taylor I've longed for, away from the feuds and self-pity and bad rapping: reveling in the small quiet moments she has always been so good at observing. [9]

Sonia Yang: So many songs about holidays focus on the joy of the moment, that explosive rush of living in the moment; it's what sells. New Year's Day, however, is the subdued reality in the aftermath of such escapist fantasies - "I want your midnights / But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day" - it's unglamorous, hesitant, and more vulnerable than it lets on. Not everybody greets the new year with bombast and resolutions they plan to keep; it's more likely to quietly clean up the mess and go on with life as usual, with all of the same hopes and fears as you carried before the clock struck midnight. The most painful line is "Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere", that aching dissonance between familiarity and isolation that Swift does oh so well. A relationship immortalized in glitter-covered Polaroids can end sooner than one realizes, as if to show that no matter how brightly something shines, nothing gold can stay. It's fragility at its most cutting; the most powerful words are whispered rather than shouted. [10]

Danilo Bortoli: In a way, Taylor Swift has encapsuled 2017. Reputation has been met with some divisive, if not lukewarm, reception, proving to be the album we didn't want, yet managed to admit and love its flaws anyway. In a year devoted to uncovering the world's true colors, her narrative, just like her castle, came crashing down. And also in a year where simply coping seems enough, her happiness has even been seen by some as a luxury - or perhaps a felony. "New Year's Day" might suffer from this same fate, as some may listen to it as a forced reconciliation with her inner self "a la Miley", a retreat back from the reckless journey that fits most of Reputation. Yet, it comes off as the truest moment of this era for Taylor: here's to Old Taylor and the embarrassingly long yet remarkable mantras ("Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere"). As it often happens with her best songs, this one paints a vivid picture, constructing an entire narrative, this time measuring words with a stripped down piano, all suggesting, finally, some closure. It's candid. It's simple. It's heartbreaking. It's all about character, as she has learnt too late.  [10]

Edward Okulicz: The old Taylor is dead, said the new Taylor, but whoever sequenced the album sure was nice to put this throwback to thoughtful, generous, storytelling Taylor as the last thing you hear. The domestic scene she paints is lived-in, cosy, relatable once more. Her optimism comes through, mercifully, without any smugness and it's easily the best set of lyrics she put out this year. Thanks, Taylor(s). [8]

Maxwell Cavaseno: On a certain level, "New Year's Day" is brilliant because it's a sham of a record; nothing here is organic; it's a sea of strums, piano pawings, and musings to sound intimate and sentimental in the way of a singer-songwriter record, and what deep down we somehow understand Swift to be and keep forcing analogies to. It actually is sequenced really badly because, as always, Antonoff is often too clever for his own good and is deliberately making something unnerving and ambitious rather than functional (yet again the bland ambition of Nate Ruess was truly the foil he deserved, a man who could smother his tics to death in brazen tapioca). Swift, who's clearly not giving a shit on this record vocally or in trying to reign him in, is utterly adrift and her talk of glitter and memory just rings as hollow as the other asemblikit elements of the song. This record could easily be more than it is, but its sense of orphaning is pained and senseless.  [3]

Anthony Easton: Listening to the Harry Styles record this year, I was wondering (and hoping) that Taylor had reached the end of her experiment with taste, and would make something resembling a Laurel Canyon record. Hearing most of Reputation, this was obviously not the case. It was interesting, because it seemed like both Lorde and Saint Vincent made albums which took the sonic experimentation of 1989 in new and difficult directions, trusting Jack Antonoff to take care of their aesthetics, pushing and deconstructing this kind of electronic thicket that marks populist taste right now. (See Craig Jenkins essay in Vulture.) I think that I overrated this single because it provided something new, not quite a rapprochement to old Taylor (if Old Taylor was dead, then who is singing this lovely, old fashioned ballad--a ghost, a zombie, something more technologically advanced) but also not something quite new. I always worry about misogyny when I say these things, that liking the pretty song is not liking the angry song (false dichotomy I know) or liking the ballad and not liking the more abrasive songs, but the ballad is so beautiful, lush, self aware and exquisitely sung, even more exquisitely produced This might be the most conservative thing she has produced, the most republican thing--in the moneyed, tightly private idea of pleasure, but also in the idea that those kind of pleasures are well guarded---thinking of the sexual harassment law suit, thinking of the failure of her kind of me-first feminism, that this is a kind of weaponized good taste, explicitly against the vulgarity of current pop, or current discourse, after an hour of trying to be as vulgar as more interesting pop stars, keeps prodding that Laurel Canyon vibe. It's slippery and fascinating, and probably less good than I want it to be.  [7]

Andy Hutchins: The story of "New Year's Day," in part, is that it was Taylor finding a use for the line "Please ... don't / Ever become a stranger / Whose laugh ... I / Could recognize anywhere" -- a strong bit of writing from someone whose fantastic songwriting chops have been wasted on too many attempts to veer away from being the evolutionary Carole King she could be with nearly no exertion. But even though I know too many strangers whose laughs I could recognize anywhere to not tear up at that line, the one that makes my breath catch is "I want your midnights / But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day." Swift is at her absolute best when she nails the ordinary details it does not beggar belief to think she actually desires -- and when she sings that she wants someone for after the afterparty, it sounds honest and yearning in the way truth and optimism can be. Would that she could focus on that, because I give more damns about it than her reputation. [8]

Jonathan Bradley: Taylor Swift alone somewhere at a piano, playing soft clumsy chords, only half-attentive, barely a melody. "New Year's Day" concludes and recasts Reputation in retrospect; as the unguarded obverse, it accounts for that album's garishness and noxiousness. "New Year's Day" is a song of little details and emotional import, which is another way of saying it is what we have come to recognize as a Taylor Swift song. In this one, she finds in the miniatures of her morning-after tableau -- glitter, candle wax, "girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby" -- a gentle grandeur, and then in that, earnest sentiment. "Don't read the last page," she tells her companion, casting them into a storybook before resolving back into the prosaic: housework and hardships. There are not many songs that do this on Reputation, and, as with "Better Man," casually gifted to Little Big Town, "New Year's Day" is a demonstration that Swift can still do this, that her current work is not a failure to create vividly detailed pop but a conscious rejection of it. Reputation is an album about privacy and turning away from the public; it asserts again and again that there are things in Swift's life that she can refuse to make known. The music and sentiment matches this: it is at times ugly, at others glib, often repellent or anti-social, dangling details before obscuring them in ellipsis or melodrama. "New Year's Day" demonstrates that none of that happened by accident. The old Taylor is dead, but she be summoned at any time: this song casts ordinary life as legend like on "Long Live," voices hopes and fears in the form of mantra as on "Enchanted," and concludes a tumultuous record with a new start like on "Begin Again." It's tender and familiar. It's one of the best songs Taylor Swift has ever recorded. [10]

[Read and comment on The Singles Jukebox ]

[asirenspeaks]

Summer 17 necessities :  Maja’s Very Own Organic Mosquito Repellent

“Pretend I’m not here” I told Maja as I placed my nikon in her face (Yes, flash and all).  After she posed for me while still holding her wine glass, (yes, kindred spirits) I focused my attention on her products.   It was a Sunday afternoon, and she helped me arrange the products into a flatlay, flipping switches on and off to cast the perfect lighting.  It had been raining cats and dogs on and off since the spring in Atlanta, and the constant heat and humidity created the perfect conditions for mosquitoes to flourish.  The mosquitoes were clearly out here eating and living good while we either a) hide out indoors b) get bit up c) try chemical bug sprays and still get bit up and now also stink in addition to being bit up and itchy.  Those worries are now a thing of the past, thanks to Maja’s Very Own.  Now if you’ve been here before, you know I’m no stranger to chemical free living (in most  ways, still working on others) so I was over the moon when Maja let me purchase some of her MVO organic mosquito repellent before the shop launched.  I tested it the best way I know , I used it when I went to Florida for mother’s day weekend (Florida mosquitoes are a whole different level of terrible).  Not only did I return to Atlanta unbitten, but my family loved it too, mostly because it didn’t have that yucky chemical smell and stickiness most repellents give.  

Maja’s Very Own, is the true definition of an entrepreneurial effort.  She is a one woman show, from expertly mixing her butters and oils, down to the labels that she designed herself.   I had purchased before the labels were created, so I enjoyed admiring the intricate flowers the California native artist created.   They are  simple and effective, much like the product itself.  

  Get to know Maja , the artist and creator of Maja’s Very Own below.

 Tell me about how Maja's very Own started.

My thoughts of developing a mosquito repellent started when I knew I’d be moving back to the South. I lived in South Carolina for 8 years and there I found out I was highly allergic. Living there was miserable because 4-5 months out the year I couldn’t step out the house passed a certain hour in fear of being bit. I would swell so bad, and I even developed MRSA from being bitten before. I was determined to enjoy my new move because it was a new chapter in my life, and I didn’t want to limit myself. So I did my fav thing ever and google researched anything I could regarding mosquitoes and how to naturally repel them. I knew there had to be plants that worked, I hated the smell of OFF! And anything with DEET. Even if they add a “flowery” smell to those products, it smells horrible. It’s nothing but chemicals. I’m a self-proclaimed black hippy lol and want nothing to do with such things. I made my first batch summer ’16, it was a small personal bottle just to try things out. I was my own guinea pig and saw it worked for a little while but I still would get bit and would have to load up on benedryl to avoid using my Epi-Pen. But summer 17 was going to be my summer. I started my health journey, finally settled into southern living and really wanted to see what ATL had to offer. By doing more research I found better oils and remedies that might help so I threw some things together and would try them out and finally found a mix that worked and smelled good. Fortunately this time around friends and family tested it to make sure it worked for different people who have a different body chemistry than I do. Whala !  Maja’s Very Own. I wanted to have fun with it, so making it wouldn’t feel like or become a job, I already have one of those. That’s why there are Drake references in my description, someone told me I was “too urban” for those but clearly they didn’t get it was an MVO ting ayyyee lmao plus who doesn’t love a little Aubrey Drake in their life?… life is to enjoy and why not enjoy what you do?

 When you realized you could turn your own personal remedy into a business, did you have any fears along the way ?   If so , how did you overcome them ?

I originally wasn’t going to sell it or even mention it. It was the push from family that gave me the courage to start bottling it. I have a hard time putting myself out there I’m very introverted unless I know you personally. It worked so well for family I was like fuck it why not, what do I have to lose? Yes, it’s pricey but not only will I be helping myself but others. As soon I made mention of it on my FB people were messaging me telling me they have the same problem and they hate the mass produced products as well.

My main fear was the cost to do everything, because everything I used I made sure was organic, pure and naturally sourced. We all know organic isn’t cheap, but I took the leap anyway because I believe in what I’m doing. I truly believe that as long as you try to do what you whole heartedly believe in you’ll never fail because you tried. You come out a winner because you learned something by simply trying. Plus i'm beyond fortunate because my family supports everything I do, I couldn't ask for anything more than that. they're my cheerleaders even when I fail, they understand the importance of being an entrepreneur, especially being a woman and black, how important that is. I want my brothers see me try and fail or succeed, and know they don't have to keep working for someone else funding another's dream. You can put time into your own and build an empire. It'll take time, and i'm not saying I'll be hugely successful, but until my last breath I'm going to use the gifts God gave me and keep trying. Just having my younger brothers tell me they're going to step out of their comfort zone to try something because they see me trying is everything, or having my mom and grandmothers tell me they're proud of me having the courage to constantly put myself out there.  I don't care if I sell nothing else,lol that's the most rewarding thing i've ever experienced. I'll forever submit my artwork to galleries or shows and keep making stuff in the kitchen just because of those things right there.

 What are some of the challenges you faced initially as a small business owner?

Money… lmao point blank, everything else comes pretty easy for me. At a random job I had I learned design so I design all my labels, thank you inserts and banners for my Etsy. I’m also an artist so I pay serious attention to detail, almost borderline OCD lol

 Also because of that I kind of get anxiety wondering if people like what I’m sending them. Along with the product I send a general thank you, but I also send a handwritten note that I appreciate them and I believe in giving back to the Earth we take from daily. I enclose wildflowers, lavender and a few other seeds for them to plant personally or just spread somewhere so in a small way we help stabilize our bee population because we need them. Without the bees I won’t be able to continue making the product even if it’s just for myself and never sell another bottle, the fruits we eat or anything for that matter. We have to give back in some type of way, it's small but it’s something. My black hippy ish lmao

 Do you plan on expanding your product line in the future ?

I do actually last summer on top of making me a spray I also made repellent infused jewelry which I was hella surprised it worked! I forgot to spray myself and just had on my bangles and earrings and never got bit. Also beside the spray I also have a rub I made. I think people tend to shy away from the rub because it’s the summer but in the summer we still need lotion with this hard ATL water lol. I use that in place of my lotion everyday just as extra protection because I myself have even forgotten to spray myself down before walking out and regret it as soon as I feel a slight burn then welt somewhere. It's lighter than you’d think and moisturizes your skin so well because of the Shea and coconut oil. Still smells really good which a main focus was. You can wear either spray or rub along w your fav oil or perfume and it won’t be overbearing. But yea jewelry is the next move.

 You can purchase Maja’s product at here etsy shop here.   You can also keep up with her on instagram.  I highly recommend her products, not only to support small owned black businesses, but because you can’t slay all seasons 17 when you’re swollen and itchy .  

[thefrostfalgar]

Day 3: Skype

Skipping the U because i’m forever alone~~ lel no it was because my schedule is so mean!

enjoy x)

Eustass Kid rushed to the small, temporary apartment on the outer part of the nowhereland he had spent his last three weeks in. His pale skin turned pinkish, almost as red as his hair from sunburn.

The redhead sighed as he enter the small room where he spent his night fidgeting / passing out. No, not because he managed to get away from the heat of Tropical Island weather, to an air conned small room that is almost as cold as his small house far north. Instead, he felt relieved for another reason.

A reason that sits neatly in his working desk in the corner of the room.

He hurried himself to sit on the too small chair for his built, but it’s not like he had any option, or even will stay long enough to complain. He opened his laptop, and double click the blue icon with S logo on his desktop screen. “Come on,” he muttered as he thumped his fingers to the table, restless and furious as he glared at the small round animation spinning round and round as they prepare for the app to launch. “Come on,” he muttered again, heart racing from fatigue, anger, and another feeling that he never thought existed until a few weeks ago.

A feeling caused by the absence of certain someone.

Eustass Kid was normally a carefree guy. He was well known as a man who don’t get attached. People come. People go. Time heals shit. Life goes on. That’s basically his motto; in that exact order.

But that was before.

Kid nearly ripped his face in half when the window is ready, showing a picture of a dark skinned, raven-haired guy who glared at the camera that took the picture.

Even better, he saw a round green button below that photo.

Kid almost broke his touchpad hitting the video button. It takes only two rings, before his mostly black screen turned into a full screen hotness of the very olive skinned man in green scrubs.

The man with grey eyes blinked twice, before grinning like a mad man he is.

“Finally!” he said. The picture froze for a second before it gives him the live image of the man he longed for ever since he arrived in this uncivilized hell hole. “Eustass-ya?”

“Yo. Can you hear me?”

“Clearly. Can you hear me?”

“Eustass!” he shouted, too excited to keep his voice down.

“Once again, Eustass is NOT a synonym for perfect. Believe me, I know. I’ve looked in every dictionary I can find,” Law chuckled. Kid laughed with him, unsure of what to say now that they have the long-awaited Skype call. So much to say, so little words he can say. That is another thing only this bastard of a Doctor can do to him.

“But well, hello, stranger,” Law started again. His chuckles reduced into a coy smile.

“Hey, asshole,” Kid replied.

“Is that how you greet someone you haven't seen for days? Reducing them into a certain body part? That’s rude, even for you. But again, I know that means ‘I miss you’ in tough slash retard guy language, huh?”

“Yeah pretty much, yeah.”

Law grinned. “Are you sure you miss me? Or do you only miss that one particular body part of me?” he asked, pretended to hurt but Kid can tell that Trafalgar Law, the smug looking, smart mouthed sexy ass doctor is just as eager as he is. It’s not just baseless statement. He knew because after spending almost a year dating that guy and another half year waking up by his side, he could tell that Trafalgar Law can only pull two expressions; the calm, collected attitude that he shows to the world despite of what he thinks or feels, and the grinning evil face he only show Eustass and some of his close friends only when he’s happy.

And boy, does that hot Doctor grins right now!

“That too,” Kid decided to play along.

“Well, you wouldn’t miss anything if you don’t go half way around the world just to watch your machine drills to the center of the earth,” Trafalgar replied. He propped his head on his folded hand, looking up to the camera innocently. Fuck, Kid just wanted to grab him and kiss him right now, instead of doing a small talk.

“Don’t bullshit me, Trafalgar. You were the one who was so eager to get rid of me the first time.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Eustass-ya. You were the one who can’t stop whining about seeing your machine in action on the actual mining site.”

So much sass. Kid was so thirsty of snarky remarks of his boyfriend, he was so ready to gulp it all. But before he could voice his answer, he could hear a loud, urgent voice from Law’s side.

“Law, we got emergency.”

That got to be Penguin. Again. Shitty little bird.

Law scowled, for the first time looking a little bit tense. “What happened, Pen?”

“Gunshot victim. You’re needed.”

Kid almost groaned in defeat as Penguin speak fluent Grey’s Anatomy to Law. His boyfriend only scowled, nodded, scowled some more, and then turned to him in an obvious guilt.

“I’m sorry, Eustass-ya.”

“Ugh ditch it. People die every day anyway.”

“So cruel, Captain. I thought you date me because I’m a hero that can save lives?”

“I date you because you are a hot piece of ass. Now sit and ditch it.”

Law chuckled. “I won’t be long,” he said. “Be right back. I promise. I love you.”

Before Kid could answer or protest, Law had disappeared from the screen, running away to the emergency unit where he fucking needed. Kid groaned in disappointment, palms pressing his eyes as he realized that based on experience, “Emergency” combined with “you’re needed” from that shitty little bird always means that Law will be locked in the emergency room for hours. Kid got up from his chair, propping his laptop on top of his bed, facing the bathroom’s door so he can still see Law’s office while taking shower. Just in case he got false alarm and get back sooner than Kid predicted. Kid then took off his shirt, standing under the rain of cold water as he mourn his decision to come to this Nowhereville in the middle of unknownland. It was a supervision job that only the machine builder can take. Franky was supposed to be the one that go and supervise the machine, but his wife got pregnant, leaving Kid no choice than to go─well, he did have a choice, but he was so proud of his machine that he can’t resist the opportunity to actually see it in action.

When he relay the news to Trafalgar, he only shrugged. “Go, then. We can always Skype to talk to each other. Saw Pen and Killer does that. It looks like they never separated at all,” then added with a cunning smile. “We can try the hot Skype sessions too.”

But then reality hits hard. Forget Hot Skype sessions. They can barely make any calls, with Kid turned out have to stay in limited service area, where internet signal is rare and weak most of the time. Kid had to purchase signal booster to the nearby city, which took him 2 hours driving in bumpy, slippery dirt road to stabilize the internet. Then, when all is settled and Kid could even watch 10 episodes of Hannibal without any delays, their call attempts were ruined because of time difference. Either Kid fell asleep while waiting for Law to online, or Law never showed up at all with all the emergencies in the hospital, even on weekends.

“13 hours difference sucks!” Kid yelled to the bathroom walls. He decided to get out of the shower, put on his clean shirt and shorts, and lay down on the bed, plugging in his laptop charger with his eyes occasionally glance to the screen. It’s still showing blank white hospital wall on the other side of the world. Law’s office.

Kid put the laptop on his stomach, letting out a small smile as he recalling the moment he first enter Law’s office, doing the not-so-safe-for-work thing. Law always ditched the idea when Kid threw them, but once they were provided with the opportunity, the nasty Doc was always the one who follow through on the ideas.

Kid missed him so much. He should have known that Skype just won’t cut it. He needs the doc. Hell, even this small bed feels too large for him without Law’s body beside him.

“Damn you, Doc,” Kid smiled. “You’re really gonna be the death of me, you know that? I don’t know why I even agreed to this whole 18 weeks away from you. Can barely stand the last 3 weeks. Too bad I can’t just ditch this now. But you, though. You can ditch the patients. People die every day. I will die if we can’t talk more than few lines in the next week. You really got into my skin, aren’t you? You little shit head.”

Out of desperation and sleepiness, Kid continued to blabber randomly.  He’s saying things that he wouldn’t caught say out loud sober, even to save his own life. He kept talking and talking, before ended up fell asleep with skype still on, like he always did the past two weeks.

Kid woke up one hour early the next morning. His laptop still rest on his stomach, but the screen is dead. He yawned, lazily starting his laptop back just to check on his luck with this Skype thing.

But just like many other attempts before, Law is offline at this hour. Probably fell asleep on his laptop too, or too busy focusing his mind on another emergency.

However, this time, he saw that Law left a message.

A video message.

That’s just enough to jolt Kid to full consciousness. He eagerly played the video, which shows Law still in his scrubs, but with heavier eyes. His mouth curved into a wide, cheeky grin. Kid smiled automatically, replying the bastard’s smile even though he’s not actually there to see it.

“Hi, Eustass-ya,” he started. Kid mirrored Law’s smirk. His sleepiness just evaporated. “So, while I’m in the emergency room, Shachi sat on his desk just in front of mine, working the papers from today’s patients. He might heard something. One or two…”

“Law, don’t say my name! I don’t want the Captain kill me the moment he set foot here!” someone yelled in the background, distracting Law from his words. He smiled cunningly through the screen, obviously at Shachi. That pause is enough to make Kid blush hard. Oh, shit. What did he say last night? He did remember saying things. He just can’t remember exactly what, though. Shit. How screwed is he?

“Yeah, anyway, he might heard one or two things of your… confessions to me,” Law paused for a moment. His signature move to surprise / kill people with his words. “And might recorded that for me to hear. I must confess, I never thought of you as a romantic type,” he continued. However, he can’t seem to hold the amused smirk anymore. Kid choked on his own saliva. What did that Shachi guy recorded? Fuck. How much did he heard?

“I know tough guy like you don’t say weak things like ‘I miss you’ a lot. Hence why you always say it indirectly. But really, you’re such an idiot,” he shook his head, clearly amused. Shit shit shit. “Since our schedule is making it impossible for us to meet on Skype, say, how about I record a video message like this when I have time, and you recorded yours when you have time? But I promise, it would only be for a while. I’m booking a plane ticket departing next month. So don’t sulk about it anymore. Or sulk. I don’t care. I’ll punish you for humiliating me with those lovey dovey words either way,” he laughed, almost evilly while Kid widened his eyes. 

Holy shit! He’s gonna come here, to the middle of nowhere?

“By the way, I think I found your absence irritating too,” Law said, in a softer voice. “So see you next time. Record something nice for me to wake up to, will you?”

And with that, the video time indicator hits the right part of the screen and the video stopped. Kid set up his laptop camera, and hit the record button.  

“Nice, Doc. Now it's gonna be hard for me to beat that big surprise of yours. The only thing big around here is something in my pants but that's not a surprise for you anymore. So instead, to celebrate the news of you coming here…” 

[arthurhwalker]

Lenovo Yoga C940-14IIL Review

Disclaimer: I’m a member of the Lenovo INsiders customer advocacy group. I am not a Professional Influencer, or employee of Lenovo, I am a super fan. ;-D Opinions are my own. I paid full retail for the Yoga C940, ordering it as quickly as I could, before any discounts or sales were available. I wanted it that bad, haha.

I haven't been reviewing hardware on my Tumblr or YouTube lately because I have simply lacked the desire. I'm writing this mostly out of a primal need for people to know more about this product. I feel like what Lenovo has done with the Yoga C940 14" model is different enough to warrant talking about.

Especially for mobile creatives.

Hardware

Intel hasn't really made a decent thing since their 6th Generation chipset. That changed with the 10th Gen SoC (System on a Chip) platform that resides in the Yoga C940. Intel’s 10th generation has the same deceptive marketing, and tech babble chicanery, but there is value, and stability that hasn't been there for 3-4 years.

Intel's i7-1065G7 with Intel Iris Plus Graphics is a worthy thing to seek in an Ultrabook, provided the laptop manufacturer designed a chassis to house it properly. The aluminum build of the Yoga C940 and cooling system therein, is ideal for pushing the thermal threshold. Yes, get the i7-1065G7, and get 16GB of the 3733MHz LPDDR4x RAM that can come soldiered to the systemboard.

You are probably used to seeing 2133MHz LPDDR3 RAM or similar. My understanding, and feel free to correct me, is that the LPDDR4x is the Low Power version of DDR4, with 15% performance gain with 17% power savings (according to Samsung). And yeah, my laptop feels like it multitasks, while pushing to multiple displays, more capably, than anything in a 14″ chassis I’ve used before.

For content creators, it's well worth having the extra power, especially if this is going to be your only rig, and you plan to use the Intel Iris Plus Graphics, and the Yoga C940's two Two USB 3.1 Type-C Gen 2 / Thunderbolt 3 (with the function of Power Delivery, DisplayPort) to connect to up to two external displays. (Max resolution:  5120x3200@60Hz via USB Type-C).

I was able to push a 4k display, a 4k television, and the C940′s own display for displaying content, running a video conferencing app, while having several other windows, apps, and documents open at once.

Get the 14.0" (356mm) UHD (3840x2160), glossy, LED backlight, IPS, HDR 400, 500 nits, 16:9 aspect ratio, 90% DCI-P3, DolbyVision display option.

Get the version with 802.11ax,2x2, Wi-Fi + Bluetooth 5.0, M.2 Card Bluetooth 5.0 wireless, integrated in Wi-Fi + Bluetooth combo adapter.

Looking at the savings one gets going with an i5, 1080 display, and 802.11ac Wifi, it just isn't worth it. What you lose for the little money you save, naw, get the upgrades. The value of upgrading in this case is pretty significant I think. And, that isn't my usual stance. I very rarely see the point of upgrading beyond Intel's i5 Processors for 90% of use cases. But, in this case, the premium options for the Yoga C940 are, actually, premium, at a less than premium price.

For input, the Yoga C940 comes with a Lenovo Active Pen, garaged in the chassis, with Lenovo Pen Software on board. The trackpad is great, the keyboard is good, not Thinkpad good, but I find the typing experience enjoyable all the same.

There is no trackpoint. I was pretty sure I could do without the trackpoint that comes standard on Thinkpads in exchange for the various other features that come with the Yoga C940. The jury is still out on that. Premium options preferred by content creators, on a Thinkpad Yoga, haven't been available for years.

That may have changed with the Thinkpad X1 Yoga Gen 5. I'll review that device as soon as I can get one.

Aesthetics

The Yoga C940 is gorgeous. I've seen and held both the Iron Grey, and the Micah versions. Definitely, get the Micah. Pictures do not do it justice.

Someone poured a lot of love and attention into the Yoga C940. Relative to the placement of ports, vents, speakers, the pen accessory, and other features, I struggle to think of how I would have done it differently. Everything is just so, where it should be, where I need it, and not in the way. Lenovo could just make all their 2-in-1 Ultrabooks like the C940 and I'd be good.

It's awesome to look at, feels great in the hand, and carries extremely light for the power and features packed into it.

Premium Ultrabooks tend to be MacBook clones, or just kind of ugly. Thinkpads have sort of transcended all that, and Lenovo has tried really hard to do the same with their Yoga line of products. They tend to have a chassis and hinge assembly that sets them apart, while adding features or aesthetics that go beyond just looks. Previous Yoga Books had vibrant colors and a watchband hinge that set them apart.

In going with Iron Grey, Lenovo might be trying to get people to see their Yoga line as tools, options for creatives. I have a Yoga Book C930, and Yoga A940 AIO desktop in my workflow at either side of the Yoga C940 14" Ultrabook. Lenovo is as close to that reality as one can get without a MIL-STD rating.

Service & Warranty

Do not let anyone work on your Yoga C940 other than a Lenovo 1st party employee at one of Lenovo's service depot locations. Get the premium warranty option, but insist on mailing the device into Lenovo for support.

Do not try to work on this machine yourself. Even if you are an experienced tech with twenty years experience like I am. Watch the service videos and read the literature, for sure, if you like a challenge. I did. Nah.

Do not let a 3rd party technician touch your Yoga C940. They will more than likely fuck it up.

I educated myself on how to do a repair on my first Yoga C940 and decided that while I had the skill and the tools, I wasn't willing to take the risk. The 3rd party service person came out and murdered the laptop in trying to perform a relatively simple keyboard swap. Because of how the cooling system and hinge are integrated, the laptop is pretty difficult to pull apart without breaking it.

The story has a happy ending, though. Lenovo couldn't replace my Iron Grey model, having only Micah in the US to send me. I was curious about the color, so I went ahead and opted for a replacement with the different color. Glad I did, Micah is awesome. Remember the Clementine Orange Yoga 3 Pro? Yeah, it's like that.

Also, throughout, Lenovo warranty and service personnel did their usual five star awesome job making me happy.

Pen Input, Digital Art

As a platform for doing digital art, it's as good as it gets with a device like this. I spent most of 2018, and some of 2019 battling a serious illness. My hand still shakes, but I'm getting back to proper form with the Yoga C940. The digitizer doesn't seem to have a stylus preference, being equal to, or a little ahead of, the pen tech I have at my disposal.

I do a lot higher resolution pixel art in photoshop these days, dropping back to illustration when my hand feels steady. I don't feel like I'm fighting the machine as much as I have with other rigs. My bias toward EMR stylus tech doesn't seem to get tripped as much with the newer AES, and the Yoga C940 feels made for pen input. The soundbar hinge is good enough that I don't have to always have earbuds or headphones on, unless I'm listening to the blackest thall-festooned technical death metal.

Everything else, sounds great, headset free, in my living room, or on the balcony outside.

It could be better. It could always be better, but the pen input on the C940 is more than good enough for my purposes, often exceeding my expectations. The glossy display sometimes throws glare, but the quality of the color and depth of contrast makes me less than willing to put screen treatment film down. I'll deal with my stylus slipping a little, and some glare, to look at the display unfettered.

It's that nice.

Final Thoughts

I haven't noticed an issue with battery life. I can use the Yoga C940 for 4-5 hours, through it on the charger during lunch, and use it for another 4-5 hours, and not have to worry about managing screen brightness, or performance. In testing the device with my workflow, battery life hasn't been an issue. I didn't try to measure the exact duration of the battery, I just used the laptop as I normally would, and waited to see if I tripped over a low battery warning.

It didn't happen. With my use case, and 30 minute access to a power outlet in the middle of the day, I had power for whatever use and screen brightness I wanted.

The lack of a trackpoint, and the transposed ctrl and function key, as compared to a Thinkpad Keyboard is the thing I stumble over the most. Even with my Yoga A940 AIO, I have a wired Thinkpad Keyboard with Trackpoint, ctrl and fn key in proper place. The virtual keyboard on the E-Ink display of the Yoga Book C930 has the ctrl and fn keys arranged as I prefer.

The Yoga C940 made me realize just how much I use the ctrl key, and how much my brain relies on it being between the fn key, and the Windows/Super key. I need to remap the keys, drop stickers on them, and call it good, haha.

Thanks for reading.